


Bound in Blood

by Nopeneveragain8



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood Kink, Choking, Clothed Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Glove Kink, Praise Kink, cicero gets off on talking about contracts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopeneveragain8/pseuds/Nopeneveragain8
Summary: Just another evening at the Dawnstar Sanctuary.





	Bound in Blood

The fire-place spit its crackled light into the room, mantel adorned with scattered stones and sigils. The Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary was near-silent, barring the occasional whimper from those housed in the torture halls. Even they were quiet now, lost in the precious sleep they were allowed. Two figures remained in the main chamber, nestled on a couch by the fire-side.  


“They were so trusting, letting poor Cicero in from the cold” The speaker’s voice fades high and soft at these last words.  
The figure beside him grins, lips parting.  


“Would you like a change of clothes, darling? A bit of food before you sleep? No, Cicero told them, no, no.”  


“For a family of bards, one would think they’d learn caution from so many ballads of murder and cruelty.”  


“One would think, dear Listener. But no! The target was very busy, had very important verses to write for the morning, you see. Hunched over at her desk, all evening, even when night fell and the house was quiet as the grave, all but for her scrawling hand.”  


“She did almost catch you, if I recall?”  


Cicero’s lips pursed. “Hmm, yes, the naughty thing almost spoiled everything and screamed out for all of Windhelm to hear! But Cicero was faster, I slid my dagger across her throat before she could see. Ohh, the blood, dear Listener-- so much blood!”  
Cicero exhaled deeply, and quickly shifted his knees to his side, face flushing ever-slightly. He dared a guilty glance at the Listener, hoping she did not see how these memories affected him.  


“Tell me more.”  


“E--excuse me, dear Listener?”  


“Keep going. Which dagger were you using?”  


Cicero cleared his throat nervously. “I had only the curved Elvish blade, from the wizard in Markarth. Cicero loves how it digs into the flesh, so deep and fast and clean. Slid it from her ear to her chin before she even started to struggle.”  


“D-did she put up a fight?” Though her voice was coy, the Listener’s eyes were alert, ravenous. She leaned to the side, resting a hand nonchalantly above the jester’s knee, drawing lazy circles on his thigh as he continued.  


“Cicero had his free arm around her head, holding tight. Silly little shock struggles were all she could muster, grabbing my arm and kicking up at her desk. Cicero felt the blood soaking through his gloves, trickling down under his sleeves along his arm. I slid the blade the length of her throat, then--”  


“Then?”  


Cicero bit his lip, cheeks flushed.  


“I pulled it back from her neck...and licked the blade clean. Contracts where Cicero gets to stay a moment are so rare, and to lap the sweet blood of another fresh soul sent to Sithis pleases Cicero greatly.”  


Fabien growled low in her throat. She dragged her hand from his thigh to ghost over Cicero’s noticeable erection. Her voice was taunting and animalistic when she spoke.  


“Does thinking about this make you hard, Cicero? Do you want to tell me more, while I grind against your lap?”  


Cicero let out a whimper at these words.  


“Y--yes, Llistener. I would like that very much.”  


Fabien turned to straddle his hips, eyes never leaving his own.  


“Keep going. Did you leave after she was dead?”  


“No, there was another, a double contract-- a joyous rarity! I saw him sulking in the hall, hiding in the dark. He saw me slay the bardess, I could see it in his darting eyes. I crept toward the adjacent room, pretending not to see.”  


Fabien leaned forward, bucking gently against Cicero’s clothed erection.  


“Mhh-- Listener, more..please…”  


She tangled a hand in his hair, jerking his head back to meet her eyes.  


“Keep going, Cicero.”  


“Mmh-I ran after him through the halls, so gleeful--’If in the dark, there sits a sneak, I’ll stick my blade up through his cheek.’ Ha! Poor wretch tripped into a corner, Cicero threw himself on top of him, wrapped my hands around his throat before he could rise.”  


“No stabbing this time?” Fabien cocked an eyebrow.  


The jester smiled, almost sheepish. “Sometimes it is fun to hold them down, my Listener.”  


“Dirty boy, getting off on choking someone out”  


Cicero moaned, rolling his hips against her.  


“He was more of a fighter, gasping and pushing against Cicero’s grasp. His wife’s blood hadn’t yet dried from my hands, I could feel it as I tightened my grip.”  


Fabien moaned, biting her lip. She brought her free hand to the jester’s throat, gently cupping beneath his jawline. Since their arrival at the Dawnstar Sanctuary, she wore gloves identical to Ciccero’s-- they suited her, ornate and advantageous-- and particularly beautiful wrapped around her Keeper’s throat. The leather pressed tight against his skin as Fabien increased pressure, cutting off oxygen just enough to elicit another moan form him.  


“Ooh, L-Listener knows what Cicero likes…”  


“Did you feel his blood pounding against your fingertips? Did you stir with lust as you held him to the ground, watched his face change from terror to resignation? I bet you touched yourself, thinking about the way he pleaded, begged you to _please stop._ ”  


Cicero whined appreciatively, gasping and crooning as she removed her hand from his throat. She pressed two gloved fingers against his lips, parting them to roughly explore his mouth, building the pace of her thrusts against his lap.  


“Then you left the house, all bloody and desolate. Cicero, can you say ‘Hail Sithis?”  


Cicero spoke, muffled through her fingers, “Mmmh-- Hail Sssithis!”  


“Good boy.”  


“Yes---Mghh--Listener!’ Cicero bucked his hips a final time, riding out his orgasm.

 

As his breathing returned to normal, the jester looked up, eyes filled with sly adoration. Fabien grinned softly, and kissed him. Cicero brought his hands up to hold her face, and the pair reveled in the newness of gentle intimacy.  


“I...I imagine you’re not too busy here to venture off with me awhile?”  


The jester’s eyes lit up at these words. “Ooh, yes! Cicero and the Listener-- on the hunt!”


End file.
